Another One
by Art4Life1
Summary: "America…" Ludwig sighed, turning his head to look at the American nation. "You had better not be asleep up there." When they looked at him, the six of them, they didn't see a sleeping teenager. In fact, Alfred was completely awake. However, his eyes were staring straight ahead, unblinking. One shot.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Okay so... I don't really know where this came from. Other than the fact that my dad usually puts politics on a lot at my house and I get sick of hearing people arguing... But anyway, here you go. I'm not sure about posting it, but you know. Tell me what you think.**

* * *

It had been a long day. A long day filled with speeches and discussions and arguing and discussing problems that no one even wanted to think about. The meeting kept drawling on, the clock kept ticking and some of them just wished for it to explode so they could have something to distract themselves with. Sadly, it didn't and the meeting wasn't even halfway over yet.

The room was filled with such an air of depression and boredom that it seemed to suck the life out of anyone and everyone in it. They had already taken more breaks than intended and that was just because after a few speeches none of them could physically or mentally stand it anymore.

They wanted Gilbert to break in and joke around, but they knew that the Prussian had promised his brother he wouldn't at this meeting. They had wanted to get something done.

Alfred was the one at the podium at the moment, or as they had silently decided to call it, the stick of torture. They wanted the American to throw ridiculous and imaginatively hopeful ideas around like they were nothing, but it wasn't meant to happen today. They were talking about the state of their countries at the moment and then, they supposed, they might get to solutions.

He was in the middle of his speech now and though no one had been paying attention, he had started to go off, slow down. His voice was falling in volume as well, starting at a bit lower than normal and now just softly speaking.

It took them a few moments to notice that he had finally stopped completely. Slowly they became aware of the silence. Their brains started to work correctly again.

"America…" Ludwig sighed, turning his head to look at the American nation. "You had better not be asleep up there."

When they looked at him, the six of them, they didn't see a sleeping teenager. In fact, Alfred was completely awake. However, his eyes were staring straight ahead, unblinking. He looked shell shocked.

"Is he alright…?" Arthur asked, a worried tone entering his voice. Despite how much he tried to hide it, he did care. The nations were more awake now, some ready to get on their feet.

Ivan, being closer to the podium, stood quietly. "Fredka?" He asked softly, poking the younger nation's arm.

The reaction was instantaneous. Alfred's eyes widened and he sucked in a breath, jumped backwards, stumbled, and landed on his butt with a thump on the ground. He scooted further backwards, still staring straight in front of him. His breathing was speeding up.

The other nations stood, running towards their fellow country.

Francis looked between Alfred and Ivan. "What did you do?" He asked the Russian.

Ivan blinked, looking at his 'rival' in shock and confusion. "I just… poked him."

The Frenchman knelt, Feliciano sitting next to him.

"Alfred?" The Italian coaxed his voice soft. It was the caring tone the Italian almost always seemed to have. "What's wrong?"

They saw his lips move, but heard nothing.

Francis leaned forward, eyebrows furrowing in worry. "What is it?" He asked. "Is something going on?"

Alfred's lips moved again and this time both of the European countries caught it. "-another one."

Kiku was kneeling now too. "Is he alright? What did he say?" Though his face stayed calm, his voice portrayed the worry for his friend.

"He said… another one."

"Are people dying?" Arthur whispered, feeling like if he spoke to loud things would only get worse. The other nations looked between each other at the question.

Ivan shook his head. "No…Sadly, people are always dying. But that isn't it." He motioned to the American. "There are no major wounds. No minor ones either as far as I can see."

"Then what is it?" Ludwig had moved next to them now. "I checked the news. No disasters."

"Not another one."

Alfred's voice was louder this time. Everyone had caught it.

Feliciano put a hand on the Americans shoulder, struck by how scared the younger nation looked. However, that only seemed to make it worse. Alfred scooted back further, hitting the wall, though he gave no notice. The Italians hand withdrew instantly, eyebrows furrowing. "I didn't…"

"I know all of you didn't."

The voice came from behind all of them this time, usually so soft they could have missed it. Now it was louder, hard edged.

They turned to see a figure standing. He looked similar to Alfred, but at the same time, not.

"Mathieu." Francis whispered. He looked like a wave of relief had washed over him.

Matthew nodded, motioning for them to get out of the way. "Could you move please so I can help my brother?" They could see the flash of anger behind his eyes and quickly obliged.

Arthur met the Canadian's eyes. "Is he going to be alright?"

"In a bit, yeah."

They watched as Matthew sat in front of his twin and crossed his legs, the anger leaving instantly. He acted as if this were a normal occurrence. When he spoke his voice was softer again, holding so much care inside it. "Alfred."

Alfred didn't react, or at least not right away. There was a slight hitch in his breath.

Matthew slowly reached out a hand and put it on his brother's shoulder. Though the others expected the American to move away again it was not the case. He didn't move. Then, without any hesitation, Matthew pulled his brother into a hug.

For a moment Alfred stayed still. Then, as if at a snail's pace, his arms moved to return the gesture.

Matthew laid his chin on his brother's shoulder. "It's okay Alfred. It's okay…"

"Not another civil war..." Alfred breathed. "Not another one."

The nations blinked in shock, unsure what the younger nation was talking about. Matthew, however, nodded. "I know… There won't be another one Alfred."

Alfred finally blinked and no one could decide if the drop that fell from it was from holding his eyes open for so long or his emotions. They watched as the superpower began to shake.

Matthew rubbed his brother's back, his eyes sad. "I know Al, I know…"

Francis started, "But there isn't a civil wa-"

Alfred froze up again. The Canadians head whipped around so fast they thought it would break. He glared at them, whispering, "Do NOT say that." Then he turned back and took his previous position. "It's okay… It won't happen, Alfred, it's alright."

The American nation took a slow, shallow breath and hid his head in Matthew's shoulder. "I don't want another one."

"It's not going happen, Al. I promise." He smiled slightly. "And do I ever break my promises?" They didn't hear the response, but they saw the Canadian nod. "That's right, I haven't. It will be okay."

"I don't want them to fight."

Matthew's smile fell and he sighed softly. "I know…" He was silent for too long and Alfred's breathing shifted, becoming quicker again. "No, it's okay brother. It's fine… We can get them to stop alright? How does that sound?"

"Good."

The agreement finally seemed to calm the nation down. His breathing was almost back to normal after a few moments.

Matthew turned his head towards them again, eyes having lost most of their flare. His purple orbs flitted in the other direction of the far side of the room, telling them to go.

They did.

* * *

They watched from afar as Matthew set a cup of hot chocolate on the table and sat in the chair next to Alfred's. The Canadian spoke to his brother for a few moments and they heard some of it. They couldn't help but smile a little.

("Drink this; it'll make you feel better."

"But I need coffee Matt… I'll fall asleep if I don't."

"Good, you need sleep. This is nice though, it's not really bitter."

"Don't hate my coffee."

"Don't hate my hot chocolate.")

Then the voices disappeared, the two obviously lowering their voices. After a brief moment Matthew stood and started walking towards them. For some reason the group had the urge to run.

The Canadian reached them and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Feliciano started talking, though somewhat quietly so Alfred couldn't hear. "We're so sorry. We didn't know that would happen. It just-"

Matthew held up a hand. "Its…" He let out a breath. "It's alright… I know that you had no idea that he does that."

"And what exactly…" Arthur began, frowning with worry, "was … that?" The other nations nodded, also wanting to know.

"It looked very... unpleasant." Kiku added, his gaze shifting to the floor.

Matthew paused and bit his lip. Then, after looking them over, he spoke. "I shouldn't even tell you this-" His eyes narrowed dangerously. "And I swear if you tell anyone else about this I will…" The threat went unfinished and he ran a hand through his hair. "Alright… When Alfred thinks about what's going on, how the economy is, and yes I know other places are much worse off, but sometimes…" He paused. "Sometimes he gets caught up in the thoughts of his citizens. And usually, almost always I think, they are fighting. And he gets stuck in that, in the constant debating and just…" He seemed at a loss for words, turning away from them but still out of sight of his brother. "He gets in the mind frame that there will be another civil war."

The nations were silent, all understanding the situation.

"Will it get any better?" Ludwig questioned, glancing at the American nation.

Matthew didn't answer right away. "Just… Please don't make him get caught up in it again. And if he does, call me." He turned and went to take his brother home.

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**AN: Yeah... I will have more chapters of Music up soon and hopefully a few more oneshots. and Lest we forget. my life is pretty busy with school and other things, but I'll try my best.**

**Thanks for reading everyone.**


	2. Through his eyes

**AN: Here is Alfred's POV of the situation. Like I said, I really don't watch politics a lot, but uh... Here you go. I hope I did okay with keeping everything neutral and whatnot. **

* * *

Alfred sat in his appointed chair, staring almost blankly at the cup of coffee in front of him. The other nations were in the break room and not many were talking. Most of them just stood there, in the room whose atmosphere seemed so different from this one, trying to get the thoughts out of their heads.

They thought he wasn't good at reading the mood and maybe he wasn't, but he knew that they were trying to do the same thing he was.

He took a sip of his drink, feeling the bitterness all the way down his throat. After a moment he set it down and pushed it aside, hardly wanting it anymore. The blond turned his head towards the stick of torture, an almost sick feeling entering his stomach.

He could almost hear it already; the voices. He didn't want to go up there and talk. It didn't help that the others were completely ignorant about what would happen if he did. It didn't look like Matt had made it here either…

He glanced around the room, like his brother would just appear out of thin air if he looked a little harder. He felt anxious at not being able to find him. If Matthew wasn't here then there was no help for him. But… he was a superpower. He was a nation. Despite what he thought, he still had to get up there and make the god damned speech.

The other nations slowly returned, many with drinks of their own, and he had to hold back a sigh. Francis sat next to him, which was apparently where he had been assigned. He hadn't really noticed.

The rest of them looked as worn as he did. Feliciano wasn't smiling, but when he looked at them from his spot across the table he gave it his best shot. Alfred had to give him credit for that. When no one could spare a smile, even him, at least Feli tried.

He often wondered why Lovino rarely came to these meetings. He thought that the Italian's brother had been scheduled to come, or maybe Feliciano had convinced him, but when they had arrived it had only been the younger twin. He was sure he knew why now. Lovino was usually a downer and being here? It was torture enough if you tried to stay positive. He could imagine him rage quitting in the middle of the meeting and just walking out the door after yelling at them.

"Alfred."

The American blinked, coming out of the train of thought that had so kindly been distracting him. Ludwig was sitting now and had shifted his gaze to the stupid stick of torture.

Slowly, he nodded and stood, grabbing his papers. He walked like every step hurt and, in a way, it kind of did. When he reached his podium he set the papers down and looked them over. He knew that they wanted, needed, him to say something stupid. Or hopeful, or really just… anything but what he had to say. He would have loved to give them that. Really, he wanted to do that more than anything at the moment. However, they had made this a 'no bullshit' meeting, which was why Gilbert hadn't busted through the doors to save them and why he probably wouldn't be doing so at any point throughout.

For a moment he was silent and, though he knew that everyone wouldn't listen to his speech (some might try, but it would be useless), they were waiting for him to start. He just wished they could go home…

Alfred looked at his papers and took a deep breath. Despite himself, his voice didn't come out nearly as strong as he had wanted. "Things are getting tougher." That sounded so incredibly stupid. Of course things were getting tougher, they always were. It was life. But…he kept going. "My country is doing alright. We make it by okay, but job opportunities are falling, the gas prices keep going up…" The debt kept getting larger and larger…

Though he wasn't sure how to put things in to words, he was trying to stay away from the subject that would make his mind go into chaos. But… it was part of the state of his country, of himself. "There are a lot of arguments going on between the parties about many different issues." Many that he didn't want to think about or bring up at the moment.

As he kept going he saw the images starting to form in his mind; the congress members arguing, the protests that kept going on…

"There are protests about rights and other controversial ideas. I know you've probably got them in your countries as well…" He started to trail off, despite having so much more of his speech he had to get on with. He really thought he would get further than this… Maybe it was because Matt wasn't here.

He couldn't get the words out. The pictures were becoming clearer and the voices were making their way in to the edge of his consciousness. They started out as whispers, but they would get louder. They always did.

He tried to go on. His mouth kept moving, but he wasn't sure how loud or soft he was speaking anymore. He was hardly aware of the words that were even tumbling out.

"There's fighting… a lot of fighting." That brought back memories or battlefields and bloodshed. He pushed them back. "People are arguing constantly…"

The voices grew stronger. There were so many; men, women, protestors, teenagers, congressman, senators, parents, children… They came from every corner of his brain and drowned out almost everything else. With each one the memories became looser, ready to escape.

His mouth had stopped moving. He tried to stop thinking in some way, avert them, but that only made them grow. He was ever so vaguely aware of the podium he was gripping, holding for his sanity.

There might have been another voice. He had no idea whose it could be. It merely blended with the others. Then something touched him.

He felt it. It was like a prod, just wanting him to move along, but… It felt like he had crashed into a brick wall, or… to be more specific… the brick wall was crashing all over him.

The memories shot out around him, right before his eyes. The voices exploded.

"_What do you think we should try to do to fix it?"_

"_Where do you think this country's headed?"_

"_Let's move somewhere else."_

"_Look at this! We can't even pay the bills."_

"_Fucking healthcare."_

"_The government shut down. They can't even reach a decision!"_

He fell backwards from the weight of it, trying to get away as the images berated him, one after the other. They wouldn't stop. He just wanted them to stop.

People were protesting again. They were in front of him with signs. They changed so fast he couldn't read them but he knew they were covered with issues. Abortion or not, human rights, wages, unemployment, spying… It would never stop.

"…another one."

The people were criticizing everything and… he heard all of it. And they could do it all they wanted, really, they were entitled. But he didn't want _this._

The marches were starting to show their faces. He felt more panic at hearing them; the drums, the thousands of feet moving along with the horses. He didn't want to see it again. "Not another one."

There was a hand on his shoulder and the marching grew louder. A pain shot through his abdomen and he tried to get away from it, from the northern and southern soldiers that clashed in front of him. They were screaming at each other, yelling battle cries and talking about strategies to kill one another; to win.

He could feel it; the sensation that he was splitting apart again, becoming two different people almost. He hit something solid and couldn't get any further away.

Blood was everywhere. Bodies were everywhere. Voices were yelling at him; his people. They hated him, didn't they…?

He had lost more of them to himself than anything else… and he never wanted to see it happen again. He never wanted to see that kind of bloodshed again.

He just wanted them all to get along.

Another voice came, but it was… different. It was soft, like it knew the chaos he was seeing. "Alfred."

He knew the voice. He wanted to speak, but as soon it left everything was louder than before. There were more deaths, more… There was screaming now.

There was another hand on his shoulder, but the touch was much like the voice. It wanted to help. Then, suddenly, he was warm. Two arms were wrapped around him, protecting him. He tried to move his arms, but they responded slowly. It was like he wasn't attached to them anymore.

A chin was set on his shoulder and the quiet voice spoke again. "It's okay Alfred. It's okay…"

He wanted to cry as the pain ebbed ever so slightly. It was Matthew. His brother always came. He felt relief, but then he couldn't remember exactly why he felt so much of it. It disappeared as quickly as it came.

Alfred was barely aware of his mouth moving, still looking out at the battlefield, his ears still filled with arguing. "Not another civil war… Not another one." He needed his brother to understand. He could see it, all of it.

He felt Matthew nod. "I know…There won't be another one Alfred."

…There wouldn't? It wouldn't…

He finally blinked, his eyes stinging. Something dripped down his face (he hoped it wasn't blood) and he couldn't hold still. He couldn't stop trembling.

A hand started to go up and down his back. "I know Al, I know."

He was so glad someone knew. Matthew could help him; get him out of this place. He started to see other things; the outline of the podium, the color of the carpet. He heard another voice.

"-civil wa-"

Everything snapped back again. He was being blasted with voices and the arguments were worse. He felt like he might be sick.

Succession. That's what they were talking about now. He remembered more and more of his states doing that; more and more of his children leaving him. He hadn't wanted them to go… He hadn't wanted to upset them. He just wanted everyone to be happy.

Matthew's voice spoke again, but not to him. It was still quiet, but now it was angry like everything else. It melded together with the rest, but it was drowned out too.

More battles. Too much blood. Too much. Too many dead.

"It's okay… It won't happen, Alfred, it's alright."

He breathed in, feeling like he couldn't get enough air, and tried to hide from everything. He felt the eyes on him. "I don't want another one."

"It won't happen, Al. I promise. And do I ever break my promises?"

He shook his head. Never, even when they fought.

"That's right, I haven't. It will be okay."

Alfred didn't look up, but he could still hear it, still see it. "I don't want them to fight." They were all the same people. If they just wanted to do what was best… couldn't they just get along? Couldn't they just work together?

"I know…"

Matthew was silent. The voices grew louder again.

"_They're obviously stupid. I mean look at what they're doing-"_

"_Do they even care what they're doing to the country?"_

"_They're ruining everything. We-"_

"_The democrats need to-_

"_The republicans won't-_

No no no no no no no. Matthew was the only one that could make it stop.

"No, it's okay brother. It's fine… We can get them to stop alright?" Yes… _thank you_. Thank you. "How does that sound?"

"Good."

They could fix it. They could… They could make things better.

The next thing he knew the eyes were gone and he felt more tears. His mind started to calm down. He remembered that Matthew had helped him with this before, had helped him through it. Matt didn't make him stop hiding.

The battle started to go away. The arguments fell to a whisper. His brother kept telling him that things would be okay.

Then, Matthew pulled back and smiled softly, his voice still quiet. "How about we get you a drink?"

Alfred hesitated. No one besides his twin had seen him like this before and he hadn't ever wanted them to. What would they think? What would they call him?

"Don't worry." Matthew assured, holding out a hand to help him up. "I'll talk to them."

He nodded and grabbed hold of the hand.

* * *

They were driving back home now. He wasn't driving of course, Matthew was. The ride had been talkative and he was thankful for that. Matt knew what to do to keep him from wandering off.

"Are they any better?"

It took Alfred a moment to think of what his brother was talking about. He supposed that was a good thing though. "Yeah, they are." The phantom pains he usually felt during the… whatever it was… The ones that made him feel like he was splitting in half were gone now. Or at least faint enough to the point where he could mostly ignore them.

"Okay, that's good."

They were headed home and he supposed Matt would be staying over. That was what he usually did after this had happened. "Want to play some games later?"

"Sure."

They both knew that they would be playing none that involved wars.

"Board games?"

"Definitely."

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**AN: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.**


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